Listening to a news broadcast is like smoking a cigarette and crushing the butt in the ashtray.
quote by Milan Kundera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Wish my pain was a cigarette
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have been touch by you
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have had the comfort of your hand
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
I would have been on your lips
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have been consumed with time
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have ended in an ashtray
Wish my pain was a cigarette,
It would have been thrown away
poem by Secret Shal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Serene Saturday
Serene Saturday
It's Saturday
and I’m listening to the football
on the radio
It's Saturday
and I’m listening to the football
while slurping my coffee
and having a cigarette
It's not my team who are playing
they play tomorrow
I'm on the brink of falling asleep
but I’m fighting it
My leg is twitching, must be the coffee
I’ve drank too much of it today
Meanwhile my cigarette has burned out in the ashtray
The football has just finished as I wake up,
the classified results are being read out
I light up a cigarette and lie back with my eyes closed
and I remember my dream, 'I’ve had weirder' I think to myself
taking a drag of my cigarette
I wonder, should I get some beer tonight? Decisions, decisions,
yeah, I probably will, maybe cider, yeah, beer and cider...yeah
Andrew Matthews
01/05/2002
16: 26: 01
poem by Andrew Matthews
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smokin The Herb Again
Yo yo yo, yo, yo yo what
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Damn, I really wish I could find my sack man
Must have got eaten by pac-man
If I had it I could smoke again
Smoke with my friends to the very end
But now Im trying to comprehend
Whens the next time that Ill smoke again
I need to know, please tell when will we smoke again
I got a buddy, his name is ted
Hes got a problem going through his head
He doesnt know how to puff puff give
But I like so Ill teach him and Ill let him live
Everyday we teach him right
When he divides, we have to fight
But at the end of the trying day
We says its ok and we puff away
Just the other night, I saw you, you were smokin not sharing and being tight
But thats ok, you are my friend, well smoking until the very end
The lessons that we put out, we order you to try it out
Its nice to smoke, yea thats what were all about
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Hey, ho, hey ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking everywhere
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking all together
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dubrovnik 1972.
Dubrovnik seemed
a second home,
and you, in a street
cafe, sat drinking coffee,
with that book on
Schopenhauer open
on the table, a cigarette
smoking in an ashtray
unattended, thinking
of the girl in the hotel
restaurant the night
before, the waitress
who smiled at you as
she served and went
by your table, and your
brother said, I don't
fancy yours much,
indicating with a nod
of head, another
waitress over by a
nearby table, plump
and spotted, wearing
a scowl instead of a
smile, and all the while,
he eyeing, as young
men do the beauty
that had caught your
eye going by, but all is
fair in love, so men
have said, so picking
up the book on
Schopenhauer, and
further reading,
holding the cigarette
between the fingers
of the hand not
turning pages, you
inhaled with deep
concentration the
smoke and words
spread across the
page, written by a
philosopher of a
foreign tongue
and different age.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Sick Of It
I'm sick, sick, sick of cigarette addiction
I'm sick of movies and their dishonest depiction
That smoking is glamorous, sophisticated and cool
When what it really is is something that rules
The cigarette addict from morning to night
And all the hours in between, they can never take flight
From the constant nagging fear that they must inhale the fumes
Of a deadly poison that will lead them to their doom
A cigarette addict can barely do a thing
Without a cigarette, it's got them on a string
They have to smoke it now, it just cannot wait
And then, another and another, they've really taken the bait
A cigarette addict is as helpless as a lamb
On a frosty hillside with no mother to keep it warm
Their mind is so confused that they actually believe
A cigarette is their saviour, they are so deceived
(Sydney, Australia - 2003)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pollution and Its Solution
World's a big ashtray
Light up the match stick
Flip the cigarette
A little in the room
And more on the road
Drop ashes
Throw the cigarette butt
And crush it with your shoes
Roll a waste paper ball
Throw it into the world...
Penthouse resident
Throw all your garbage
Out of the window
On to the street
Leave the gum you chew
In inaccessible places
Leave the beer can
Wherever you emptied
It's only trouble for others
World is a lavatory
Spoil the road
Turn canals
Into chemical dumps
Cut all the trees
Level all the mountains
Create loud noise
Make holes in world's ears
Leave the car exhaust
To the world behind
Raise the chimney
Into the ionosphere
Friend!
These are not
What you are supposed to do
Please realize
Your minimal responsibility
And leave this world
Your world
For yourself
And for your neighbors
At least as
A place to live.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cigarette and the guitar
The guitar and cigarette burn melodically
I sit in the lounge hoping to train myself
No sitting in the lounge before the show starts
under my breath a few sad whispers
I wipe my hand on the fitted jeans I wear
smearing them with cigarette ashes
very few fallen to the ashtray
engulfed with the music- I stir- waiting for the melody to stop
poem by Tajma Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Radio news is bearable. This is due to the fact that while the news is being broadcast, the disk jockey is not allowed to talk.
quote by Fran Lebowitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ashtray Heart
You used me for an ashtray heart
Right from the start
Case of the punks
I feel like a glass shrimp
Make invalids out of supermen
Call in a shrink
And pick you up
In a girdle
You used me like an ashtray heart
Right from the start
Case of the punks
Another day, another way
Somebody's had too much to think
Open up another case of the punks
You hid behind the curtain
Waited for me to go out
A man on a porcupine fence
Each pillow is touted like a rock
The mother / father figure
Somebody's had too much to think
Send your mother home your navel
Case of the punks
You picked me out like an ashtray heart
Hid behind the curtain
Waited for me to go out
Used me like an ashtray heart
A man on a porcupine fence
Hit me where the lover hangs out
While they crushed me out
You used me for an ashtray heart
Look behind the curtain
You looked in the window when I went out
You used me like an ashtray heart
Brush me off
While I was burning out
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some days the competition would beat me and I'd go home thinking awful thoughts, want to hide under the bed, depressed. But of course, in the news business, when you're working a daily news broadcast, you get your victories and defeats every day.
quote by Sam Donaldson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butt Town
The cops are well-groomed, with
Muscled physiques in butt town
Their tan uniforms are tailored in chic
In butt town
Any young black male who walks down the street
Is gonna get stopped by a car full of meat
But the girl with the hair
Flies by in her underwear-
Shes done nothing so far to deserve that car
When you live in butt town
You gotta get down
But in butt town Im learnin
In butt town Im earnin
In butt town Im turnin
Into my worst nightmare
Im tellin you, its a motley crew in butt town
Monday youre new, and friday youre through
In butt town
The producer is wily, and owns what he sells
The talent is eager to go straight to hell
Th tits are amazing, and everyones gazing
At some body part-
Thats the nature of art in butt town
All over butt town dreams have a show down
All over butt town values are thrown down
But in butt town Im learnin
In butt town Im earnin
In butt town Im turnin
Into my worst nightmare
In butt town baby
Im gonna be a star
Im gonna shake my butt far
Now here we go
Im gonna shake my butt
Shake my butt shake my butt
In butt town
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Footsteps (Killing F(r) iends On Paper)
The sound of
footsteps
in the gravel
behind you
makes you turn.
Your eyes widen
and your jaw drops
as does your
smoking cigarette.
You stare at me
for a second
or two.
You are not smiling
and though
your mouth moves
it speaks no words.
Gunshot breaks this silence
as your head explodes
in a cloud of red mist
and bone.
I smell gunpowder.
Look down
on your headless torso,
picks op stained
still smoking cigarette,
noticing for the first time
the shotgun in my hand.
My brain is numb.
Voice
sounds strange
and distant
as I call
the Cops.
I feel the wind
I see the sun
I taste metal
I hear the birds
...but not the
2nd gunshot
poem by Carsten Thomsen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Cigarette
No smoke without you, my fire.
After you left,
your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray
and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey
I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal
of so much love. One cigarette
in the non-smoker's tray.
As the last spire
trembles up, a sudden draught
blows it winding into my face.
Is it smell, is it taste?
You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips.
Out with the light.
Let the smoke lie back in the dark.
Till I hear the very ash
sigh down among the flowers of brass
I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.
poem by Edwin Morgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In an artwork you're always looking for artistic decisions, so an ashtray is perfect. An ashtray has got life and death.
quote by Damien Hirst
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet- Stop Smoking, Could You Please!
Oh listen Sir, Oh listen please, will you?
“Cigarette smoke is injurious to health”,
And in the stages last what can you do?
Life pathetic turns, despite all your wealth.
Enough’s is enough, please draw the line, will you?
Give up your smoking habit, Now, today!
In life, there are much better things to do;
I plead to you to follow what I say.
All men on earth are imperfect, may be;
Our body, God gave us is so sacred;
It is not late to cease smoking- Be free;
Beware the Killer can pronounce one DEAD.
Oh listen Sir! cease smoking now, TODAY!
This is my Warning, Please and how I say.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Broadcast Decency Enforcement Act of 2004 helps address the continuing degradation on the broadcast airwaves and helps send a clear message to the broadcast industry that Alabama families, like the rest of American families, have had enough.
quote by Mike Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miles Is A Cigarette
The weak and hazy shades of winter sun
Come shining through
Lifting fog from the trees and a gentle warm breeze
Send it up in to the blue
Blue sky and you come creeping through my soul
Goodbye our loves smoking too
And the sound of those italian engines
Is much more the sound of you
Miles was a cigarette smoky and long
Gonna miss what I never had
Now that cigarette is gone
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Violins
I am just another fool
And I have to keep telling myself that
I am just a hypocrite
And I have to keep calling you one
And I forgot to bite my tounge
And my assumption was the mother of all mistakes
So I assume the role, open my mouth, and clumsy words escape
So why you wanna be there when you could be here
you are slipping away
I awake with your replacement
A bottle in my grasp, in an unfamiliar place
Because you put me out
The butt of a sick joke
Into this ashtray life
As you come and go
And I forgot to servie you and we broke down
And you can't live with my mistakes
So I assume false grace open my arms
And grasp at something true
How are you
How have you been
Girl I miss you, wanna see you again
So why you wanna be there
When you could be here
You are slipping away
I bring the worst in you and you try and let me know
You bring out the worst in me
Anxiety, anxiety
I'm trying to let you go
You say I'm giving you the creeps
So I assume the role
Open my claws and grasp for your heart
How are you
How have you been
Girl I miss you
Wanna see you again
In to you like a mortal stake
So vindictive your love's slipping away
Violins (the but of your sick joke)
Violins (into this ashtray life)
Violins (I'm tryin' hard to let you know)
Violins (into this ashtray life)
(woo yeah)
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Violins
I am just another fool
And I have to keep telling myself that
I am just a hypocrite
And I have to keep calling you one
And I forgot to bite my tounge
And my assumption was the mother of all mistakes
So I assume the role, open my mouth, and clumsy words escape
So why you wanna be there when you could be here
you are slipping away
I awake with your replacement
A bottle in my grasp, in an unfamiliar place
Because you put me out
The butt of a sick joke
Into this ashtray life
As you come and go
And I forgot to servie you and we broke down
And you can't live with my mistakes
So I assume false grace open my arms
And grasp at something true
How are you
How have you been
Girl I miss you, wanna see you again
So why you wanna be there
When you could be here
You are slipping away
I bring the worst in you and you try and let me know
You bring out the worst in me
Anxiety, anxiety
I'm trying to let you go
You say I'm giving you the creeps
So I assume the role
Open my claws and grasp for your heart
How are you
How have you been
Girl I miss you
Wanna see you again
In to you like a mortal stake
So vindictive your love's slipping away
Violins (the but of your sick joke)
Violins (into this ashtray life)
Violins (I'm tryin' hard to let you know)
Violins (into this ashtray life)
(woo yeah)
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elsa and The City View
Elsa sits on the edge
of the roof of the building
smoking a cigarette
her thoughts on Bolright
her feelings on the downside
her get up
in the morning
and have a good look
out on the city
still intact
the stone on the rooftop
is warmed by the morning sun
and warms her butt
and thighs
and so what
she thinks
if he doesn't
come back again
what the heck do I care
I had a good time
had a good night
the bed rocking some
the Miles Davis CD
oozing from the hifi
rising in the air
and he was a cool lover
had that way about him
that make the most of
this baby because
you won't feel
the same again
kind of sensation
and she looks
at the passing traffic
the ant like people below
the smell of the city
the sensation
of the warm stone
beneath her
the warmth rising
through her skin
the touch pretty much
like his
but softer
more gentle
and she inhales deeply
on the cigarette
sensing the smoke
against the back
of her throat
sensing it take up
in her lungs
and thinking of him
trying to remind herself
of each moment with him
the touches
the kisses
the sex
oh yes the sex
and she exhales
the smoke
and laughs to herself
as if remembering
a private joke.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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